A Purrfect Punishment
by Persephone Kore
Summary: Sequel to Andrea13's From Baaad to Worse, because she wanted to see it.


_Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on properties of Marvel Comics and not specifically authorized; no claim on their property is made by me and no material profit to me is intended or expected. This is also an authorized (requested) if somewhat alarmingly derivative sequel to "From Baaad to Worse," by Andrea, and features the original characters introduced therein, plus one. _

**-------------------------------  
A Purrfect Punishment  
by Persephone  
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"Explain this to me," Scott Summers said slowly, arms folded tightly across his chest in defiance of attempts to eat his sleeves, "one more time." 

Domino sighed. Deeply. "Susie," she began, "apparently has a sister." 

*****

She'd been waiting for a clear shot for the past three minutes. Of course, Stryfe would _probably_ block it, but if he happened to be paying enough attention to Nate at the time, she might get... lucky.

Or a small, cute, plump toddler might appear in the way and start screaming her lungs out. "MOMMY! SUSIE! MOMMY! SUSIE!" 

Domino jerked the gun up, heart beating rapidly, and scrambled to a crouch, trying to aim _past_ the stupid kid. So much for cover, now if only they didn't look.... 

Another small child showed up, also yelling at the top of her lungs. "USE YOUR SPECIAL, RACHEL!" 

_Rachel?!_ Domino winced -- Stryfe looked up -- and the squalling little girls pointed at the brawling telekinetics, who were immediately replaced by... a goat... and a cat. 

Oh, no, not again. It was THAT Susie. The one who'd turned Nate into a goat _before_.

And her little sister had turned Stryfe into something with _claws_.

"Susie, switch Nate back RIGHT N-- now...." The kids had run off.

Domino snarled things which it was just as well the kids were not hearing, took an inordinately friendly goat by the horns, and dragged it to the car.

"Now DON'T eat the upholstery this time!"

Nate baaaed at her and started chewing thoughtfully on the passenger-side headrest.

Domino glowered at him, slammed the door, and looked around. There was a metal trash can a few yards away. 

So what if she was supposed to be on the side of the angels, or at least the X-Men, now? She'd been a merc. She'd never balked at stealing if she had to, and it was certainly better than leaving Stryfe running around loose. Even as a cat. 

She reached the trash can and took the lid off just as the supervillain, who had finally located her, rocketed up on an intercept course.

Domino slammed the can upside-down over him.

...Now how was she supposed to get the lid on it?

She tilted the can up a little. 

Stryfe tried to charge out.

She slammed it back down.

After several moments' thought, she opened the car door again. "Hey, Nate. Come scare your evil twin for me." 

Nate bounded out and danced around the trash can until Domino, carefully, tipped it over with the opening towards him.

The silver tomcat inside screeched and darted outward.

The goat lowered his head and charged.

The cat got his nose pricked on a horn, squalled, and leapt back with timing barely adequate to prevent his brains from being gouged out and absolutely perfect for Domino to clap the lid with a satisfying CLANG down in between them. 

Once she was sure the lid was on VERY firmly, she put it in the trunk. Nate pranced and strutted all the while.

Nothing struts quite like a billy goat.

*****

So they were back at the mansion, Nate was trying to eat his father's sleeves or possibly wristwatch, and Hank had made the mistake of looking into the trash can. Only quick reflexes had saved him from possibly losing an eye, and there was still a gray-silver streak of fur shooting around the house. 

Stryfe had broken three lamps and two vases when the attempts to redirect him had missed, and was expected to settle down and start attacking people for real any second.

A faint rustle of draperies heralded his arrival. Scott grabbed for him, ripping his sleeve away from Nate, and was thwarted only by a spray of scattered tasteful throw pillows as the cat landed on the couch, slid wildly askew, and made a frantic leap with claws fully extended to land splay-legged with all four feet on the goat's back.

A furious bleat echoed through the usually dignified halls of Xavier's home, and Nate demonstrated the heretofore unknown ability for goats to hit and get their horns stuck in a nine-foot ceiling.

Stryfe, previously carsick (judging by the scent and residue in the trash can, although Domino was not prepared to swear that it had been empty when she put him in it) and now smacked firmly against the ceiling, voiced his complaints about the day's activities by emitting a deafening yowl and digging in his claws to keep from sliding off the goat and down to the floor. 

Nate, blood from the punctures sluggishly spotting his wool, writhed, bucked, and then kicked violently backwards, slamming Stryfe and, via a remarkable arching contortion, his hind feet sharply into the ceiling. The impact jarred his horns free, and both crashed down in a small shower of dust and plaster.

The goat lay for a moment as if half-stunned while the cat launched from its back. 

Phoenix, finally catching up with the cat from another area of the house, halted in the doorway, eyes flickering rapidly over the destruction before she glowed faintly red and snatched Stryfe out of the air by the scruff of his neck. He twisted, snarling and trying to climb up and slice her wrist open with his claws, but she reinforced the telekinetic portion of her grip on him, pinning his legs together, claws _in_, and then tucking him under her arm. 

"Are we settled now?" she asked mildly. 

Domino looked up from her crouch beside the panting goat. "I don't _think_ his legs are broken...." 

Jean knelt beside them, setting the cat carefully in midair in a pink force-bubble. If anything, he seemed less happy about that than about when she'd grabbed him mid-spring.

"I think he's all right," she said after carefully scratching around the base of the goat's horns and then ever so gently feeling along the legs. A little prodding rolled him onto his side, providing further evidence that he was reasonably uninjured, and she cautiously articulated each leg until he kicked irritably at the handling. "Well, pretty much," she added, laughing. "That's about par for the course." 

"Hooray," Domino said with genuine relief and sarcastic lack of enthusiasm. "I guess I'd better go after Susie again. And return the trash can." She looked into it, wrinkled her nose, and put the lid back on. "If they want it."

"Maybe we should _wash_ it first," Scott suggested.

"Go right ahead!" 

"I was _not_ volunteering."

"You said 'we.' Besides, you never had to clean Stryfe's spit-up _before_." 

*****

"Okay. I've got them." Domino wearily waved the mother and both little girls, all smelling vaguely of goat from the car, into the mansion. "Susie. Turn Nate back now, please. Rachel, wait. Do we have some kind of... collar, or something, to put on Stryfe?" 

Susie pointed solemnly at the goat, and Nathan sprawled on the floor beside Domino in his proper shape. He looked a bit disgruntled, then rolled resignedly onto his stomach.

Rachel put both chubby hands behind her back and looked shy.

"Actually," Jean said slowly, "we were thinking about keeping Stryfe as a cat."

The cat squalled. Domino stared. Nathan blinked.

"Couldn't we just kill him?" Nate asked hopefully.

"No." 

There was a puzzled hiss from the TK-bubble.

"We can't just let him run around loose! Even as -- as a cat!"

"I didn't mean _loose_...."

"He has claws and teeth, you know. He can still be destructive." 

"Claws and teeth as opposed to telepathy and telekinesis. At the least it's somewhat more _limited_."

"Yeah, so's Sabretooth."

"You can't handle a little cat?" Jean asked playfully.

Nathan snorted and eyed Stryfe speculatively. The cat crouched and showed its claws, spitting.

"Uh...." Domino's mouth twitched. "Not that this necessarily means I'm opposed to it, but doesn't that qualify as cruel and unusual?" She looked more closely at Phoenix's face. "Are you joking?"

Jean raised an eyebrow and winked at the other woman, then -- still with telekinetic precautions -- lifted Stryfe from the bubble with both hands under his shoulders and a slight grunt. While considerably smaller than his mass as a human, a thirty-pound cat was still substantial. Jean was quite sure she'd have strained something earlier, despite all her training, if she hadn't supplemented the grab with her powers. 

Of course, she also might well have missed, in which case lacerations would have been the injury of choice.

"I don't know. You _did_ say you wished you could believe you could really come home with us, didn't you?" she crooned. 

Domino looked disturbed. The cat looked deeply confused and emitted a plaintive mew. 

Nathan snickered. "I'm not sure whether to be severely disturbed or delighted. You're _taunting_ him." He looked thoughtful. "I suppose if you insist on keeping him alive, this _could_ be an entertaining way to do it...."

The young girls' mother stepped bravely forward into this scene of semi-domestic torment and cleared her throat. "I'm afraid," she said apologetically, "that your -- your jokes are a little closer to the truth than I'd like. You see... you see, Rachel can change any animal to a cat, but Susie's the only one who knows how to change anything back. And Susie can only change back her own transformations."

Stryfe proved that even as a cat he could understand English by yowling again. 

Jean winced. That had been very close to her ear.

"Well. I _was_ joking... mostly... but I suppose in that case, it's a moot point." She looked back at the cat. "We might have a shot at keeping you out of trouble this way." Up at Nathan and Scott. "At any rate it's probably easier to keep him reasonably confined this way. And much easier than proving anything considering our own positions and the whole officially-dead matter...." 

"I'd prosecute," Nathan muttered, "gladly." He glowered down at the cat, who crouched and hissed unhappily. After a moment, Cable brightened. "Maybe we should have him declawed."

"Hissssssssssssssss."

"And fixed. It's irresponsible to let a tomcat run around loose like that --" 

"HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" 

"I was thinking we'd keep him strictly indoors, actually."

Nathan leaned down to take the cat from Jean. 

"Nathan...."

"Oh, don't worry, I won't kill him." Nathan raised his clone-brother to eye level. "This is going to be fun." 


End file.
